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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24367252">Just Like Nature, Changing Again</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdegg/pseuds/Birdegg'>Birdegg</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ratatouille (2007)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Colette is not really together with Linguini, Cultural Differences, Emile loves his brother, Friendship, Gen, Rat to human communication is hard, Remy is roommates with Colette because they're best FrIENDS, Remy uses a tiny pencil, rat society</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:53:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,442</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24367252</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdegg/pseuds/Birdegg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Turns out Remy's not the only Rat in Paris who wants to be more than what they've always been. His fathers plan to set up another Colony above La Ratatouille is looking more and more like an option each day, but Remy never signed up to be anyone's leader.</p><p>At least through it all he has Colette and Linguini.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Just Like Nature, Changing Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>A restaurant was one thing, a whole separate colony another completely.</p><p>Remy rubbed his hands over his face, smoothing his whiskers down in the way that always made his dad sneer in disapproval. Though he wasn’t here at the moment, the young rat could almost hear him saying that his whiskers would become permanently twisted. <em>Well good.</em> He hoped his fur turned white from the stress, that’d show dear old dad.</p><p>“I don’t like your cryptic silence…” Hedged Emile, his eyebrows drawn in typical concern. Remy let out a loud sigh, turning back to his brother and reaching for a grape. He made it a general rule to not eat the grapes that hung from the grape vine on top of La Ratatouille, as they were decorational. It was a sign of his frustration and general bad mood that he crunched into one, hardly pondering the taste. Emile’s furrowed face furrowed deeper. Remy swallowed the last of the grape and reluctantly started speaking.</p><p>“Well I don’t like that Dad’s trying to palm off the family business on me.” Emile shuffled closer on the lattice, his larger body dwarfing his brothers. Remy was unfortunately a little brother in both age and size, being generally below average in terms of height. Hanging out with humans often made him feel even smaller than he already was considered.</p><p>“Dad’s done trying to foist anything off on you; you don’t take well to being foisted.” Remy snorted.</p><p>“Then what do you call all this business with trying to turn the restaurant into a colony! I told him before, it’s a place to celebrate and eat-and-and-” He began to stutter angrily, tail whipping before Emile rested his head on top of his own. A pretty standard way to comfort another rat.</p><p>“It’s not him.” Emile disclosed, looking apologetic “It really is members of the colony. All the rats who seem to like all that human-cooky stuff you do?” Well. Remy smacked his lips together, moving farther from his brother so he could at least look into his eyes.</p><p>“What, I’ve got a fan club?” He said sarcastically, eyebrow rising. He was <em>Remy</em>, he wasn’t some macho rats the others could go to for safety.</p><p>“No, you’ve got rats who are <em>like you</em>.” Emile stressed, looking unusually serious and resolved. Remy’s joking attitude disappeared, hands clenching. If he’d had rats like him then he wouldn’t have been an outcast for years. The silence after his older brother’s statement floated over the two rodents like exhaust from a tail pipe. Remy looked away, into the neighboring buildings which were cast gold in the evening light.</p><p>“I’d have to talk to Colette and Linguini anyway.” He gritted out “It’s not just my building you know.” Emile nodded slowly, probably drawing weird conclusions he didn’t want to ponder over.</p><p>“Alright Remy. Talk to your-your human friends, and I’ll tell Dad your thinking it over.” He was absolutely not, but whatever stalled Django.</p><p>“Okay Emile. Stay safe?”</p><p>“Yeah, you too.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Colette’s apartment was only a bit bigger than Linguini’s. It felt much larger though, because of the neatness and lack of furniture. Colette was similar to a typical rat in some ways, especially in that she didn’t believe in relaxing or wasting time or space. If Remy owned human money and could buy things, he’d get her a plant <em>or something.</em> Anything to make it less depressing.</p><p>The woman was currently making some type of simple noodle dish. She was a little exhausted with cooking because of her job, and would often make quick uncomplicated meals at home. Remy didn’t quite understand, but he wasn’t so rude as to demand she make something fancier. He’d eaten literal garbage for most his life; he was in no place to judge.</p><p>“What’s going on in that brain of yours, <em>mon chef</em>?” Remy smiled at her back as she stirred the sauce pan, her voice calming him slightly. It’d been a day since he had that stressful talk with Emile, and he hadn’t been able to bring it up with Linguini.</p><p>Well. That wasn’t entirely true; he hadn’t <em>wanted</em> to bring it up with Linguini. He loved the man, but he couldn’t possibly see that conversation going well. Talking to Linguini was hard sometimes, especially when the conversation drifted to anything that had to do with rats, or really, things humans didn’t do. It seemed to jolt Linguini into remembering who he was speaking with, and it always made Remy feel uncomfortable. Talking about his duties as a rat, about colonies, seemed especially like the type of thing Linguini would be reserved and nervous dealing with. Colette though…</p><p>It was something he liked about her. She was harsh, mean and a bit cut-throat, but Colette always treated him like a person, rat or not.</p><p>He walked up the newest piece of furniture that Colette had acquired. It was custom built, tiny stairs leading to her counter. She had installed something similar into La Ratatouille, despite how expensive it undoubtedly was.  Linguini’s cramped apartment still used a broom stick whenever he wanted to get from the floor to a higher level.</p><p>Both Linguine and Colette owned many green sticky pads, which they distributed across the restaurant, apartments, and their own bodies. The hilarious tiny pencils that Colette had also commissioned (whoever she was buying from <strong>had</strong> to have <em>questions</em>) lay on most counters. Remy picked one up now and began to write.</p><p>“<em>I talked with Emile recently. He had a lot to say, and I need to talk to you about some of it.</em>” Remy stamped the end of the pencil on the counter to signify that he was done talking, and Colette glanced his way. She moved her sauce pan from the active stove top, turning the heat all the way down. She reached for his note, pealing it from the rest of the pad and reading his small writing quickly.</p><p>“That sounds serious; can it wait until after lunch? I ran half way around Paris today and I’m ready to eat raw noodles.” Remy snorted. Despite the fact that Colette controlled her own exercise routine, she always spoke of it as if someone had her do her runs at gun point. He nodded exaggeratedly, causing her to tsk at him and gently bump him with her hand.</p><p>“Rude.” he grumbled aloud, aware that she couldn’t understand him.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>They had eaten too much by the time he got around to the conversation, both sitting on Colette’s bed because she didn’t own a couch.</p><p>“We should have that talk now, oui?” Colette asked, though Remy knew from experience it was not a real question. There was no getting out of anything with that tone of voice. That was the <em>roll up your sleeves Linguini, we’re sticking our hands into this drain whether you like it or not </em>voice.</p><p>“<em>Yeah.”</em> he wrote after retrieving the nearby writing materials. “<em>My dad sent him to talk, which always means he knows I’m not going to listen, especially if the news came from him directly.</em>” Colette raised an amused eyebrow, aware of his difficult relationship with his father. It had improved by leaps since the whole becoming a cook fiasco, but they still didn’t always get along.</p><p>“What was the news?” Remy tapped his tiny pencil against the top of the sticky pad, ears down.</p><p>“<em>He wants me to make a new Colony above the restaurant.</em>” At the admission, Colette frowned, leaning forwards slightly.</p><p>“I thought you two discussed this? You were going to make your own path, different from a rats?” She flicked her hand dismissively, as if trying to encompass how that business was already dealt with.</p><p>“<em>We did. But I don’t think this is about him wanting it for me especially-</em>” he paused as he wrote, realizing this only as he actually wrote it. Wasn’t that what Emile meant? “<em>I think there are others in the Colony who wants to be a part of…whatever I’m doing with my life. Defying tradition.”</em></p><p>Colette’s eyes widened, her teeth biting her lip slightly as she thought.</p><p>“I suppose I can understand that…but Remy, if you do not want to head this Colony, they can make their own, no? You are responsible for your happiness, not theirs.” Remy laughed, feeling his heart clench slightly.</p><p>“<em>You’re not even worried about a large amount of rats stowing away on your restaurants ceiling, are you?</em>” Colette snorted, looking away.</p><p>“It is our restaurant, and don’t be stupid. It is just like renting out apartment space above us.” Remy leaned into her, leeching her warmth and pretending her total confidence wasn’t making him emotional.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I watched Ratatouille again and I was possessed by a demon to write this.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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